


Slowly, Now

by sleuth



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleuth/pseuds/sleuth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short sappy drabble I wrote as a warm up. First time writing Mchanzo. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slowly, Now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at titles. Have a song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_VVAVwuHYU

Everything about him is rough, but his kisses are soft.

The way his beard prickles against his skin, the sensation of chapped lips pressed on his own. Calloused fingertips against his cheek. A voice deep and gruff, whispering in his ear. His hair greasy from sweating in the sun. He smells of cigarillos and gunpowder, but he tastes so sweet.

And colliding with him feels so easy, so right. His skin is warm against his own, he is gentle as he pulls him into his arms. During the heat of battle everything flies by so quickly. It feels good to move slowly instead. Relax against his touch. Relish every moment. Let his eyes fall shut and sigh when his teeth scrape against his neck. Breathe in the scent of his hair, memorize it. Store it away with the precious memories, of cherry blossoms and brewing tea and his brother’s laughter when they were children. Away from sad memories, regrets. He never thought he could be redeemed—or that he ever deserved it. But here, now—limbs tangling, bodies quivering—he feels he could be reborn.

\---

He is sharp at the edges, cold. Everything about him is deadly. But his words are soft, his cheeks a warm glow.

He knew his creed. Keep everyone at a distance. What most take for arrogance is a fear of getting hurt—a coping mechanism he’d recognize anywhere. Alone, no one can hurt you. No one but yourself. He longed to close the distance—finally, finally…

And his heart burned knowing he got him to open up, be vulnerable—be here, in his arms, kissing him after a hard won battle. His fingers curl around his shirt, a long suppressed need finally letting itself go. He reciprocates, tangling fingers in dark hair, the slightest hints of silver over the years. He tilts his head to kiss him deeper and as he unbuttons his shirt he can feel his heart leap in his throat. Admiration, lust, love. Closer. Drawing him in, like wading in a river only to be swept away. He never thought he could be loved—or that he ever deserved it. But here, now—his dark eyes saying what words could not—he feels he could try.


End file.
